


Falling

by orphan_account



Category: Flowerfell AU - Fandom, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: All emotions, Anger, Madness, Other, Sadness, dust - Freeform, now is One of those times, void, void is mad to correct itself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 11:01:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7530100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Falling.<br/>Falling.<br/>Falling....<br/>A sharp tune whittles at his ear.<br/>Why, why won't it stop?<br/>Burbling laughter....<br/>It's his own.<br/>Nothing is right in this world.<br/>In this world, realities combine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling

Falling.  
Falling.  
Falling......  
Falling!  
Falling! How joyous, to peddle about through the at until you meet your down and hit the cold, unforgiving ground.  
Falling.  
Flying....?  
Nothing is right in this world!  
Nothing at all! A madness seen nowhere else, a madness of its own!  
But don't believe the whispers, for they whisper lies.  
Flying...?  
Wings? He couldn't tell. Colors were wrong and so were sounds, blurring together in a haze and wall of sharp, trilling movements. Echoing through with a wilted edge, chased by madness, broken sounds and distorted note making a discordant clang so lovely until.....  
His form was slipping, loosening. His eyes were falling and flying, melting and solidifying, it was all so crazed.   
A haze slid around his mind he couldn't break.  
Burbling laughter floated through the air, like the eerie clang of a thousand tin bells all warped and scraped.  
Laughter.  
Laughter.  
Laughter.  
His own?  
Yes, that seemed right.  
Right?  
He didn't understand!  
No no no? What was right?  
The laughter continued hysterically, a breathy, euphorically laced sound.  
It was the opposite of what he felt.  
His hands-  
Hands? Fingers?  
Scratched at the dripping glop down his face.  
Colors and sound and time weren't right.  
Nothing was right! Nothing was in order. His hands grasped panickedly at the barriers of thought that echoed through his mind. Nothing would remember. So, so slippery!  
He remembered amalgams. Is that what he was now?  
The thought was so ironic that the peal of laughter that left his throat was genuine.  
He did that to those creatures! Fate wants payback!  
He remembered needles and knives, the sensation of them in skin. His own? He didn't think so.  
Who, who?  
He smiled and chirped to himself, flapping out his arms and feeling the wind flap his tailcoats. Wind? Dust? He couldn't recall. There were the impressions of colors, but they were all black! Black, black inside, cracked inside, just like him!  
He brushed a hand along them and ripped one apart. He shoved it in his pocket to keep for later.  
Until the madness passed.


End file.
